


Sunflower Daze

by ASongofIceandHope



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Past Character Death, Single Parent Jon, Teacher Sansa, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-20 03:52:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12424467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASongofIceandHope/pseuds/ASongofIceandHope
Summary: When Jon takes his twin sons, Duncan and Aegon, to their first day of first grade, he isn’t expecting their teacher to be so... surprising.*classic single dad Jon fic, I guess??*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So a few notes before I begin:  
> In this Modern AU, Jon and Sansa are not related. Jon is Rhaegar and Elia’s third child.  
> There are some allusions to R+L, but of course it does not =J in this fic.  
> I based most of the way they talk (mostly the “mum” thing) on England, but I am an American who has only been in the UK for a week one time so I apologize if the dialect isn’t perfect.  
> Enjoy Dunk and Egg!!!

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Jon opened one eye a crack and glanced at the time. _06:00_. At first he wondered why he had set the bloody alarm for six o’clock in the morning and grumbled, turning over to go back to sleep. The moment was cut short, however, as he quickly realized that it was the first day of school. He flew out of bed, grabbing his pajama shirt which had been discarded when he went to sleep, and hustled into the kitchen. When he gathered his bearings, Jon started a pot of coffee and grabbed some eggs and bacon out of the refrigerator and started to cook. When he’d fixed three plates of breakfast, he wandered back down hall off the living room to the second bedroom. 

Slowly, Jon opened the door an inch and smiled at the two sleeping figures in their beds. Duncan and Aegon were fast asleep, with Dunk still clutching his plush BB-8. 

“Rise and shine,” he said softly, rousing them awake. “First day of first grade!”

Duncan woke first (he took after his mum in that way), and shuffled off to the kitchen. Aegon, or Egg as he was called, was more like his father and grumbled softly in his sleep. Jon had to lug him out of bed and to the kitchen, where his twin brother was staring wearily at his breakfast.

“Mum made us french toast for breakfast last year,” he mumbled. 

Jon winced. The kids and school had always been Ygritte’s territory. As an up-and-coming environmental lawyer, Jon had rarely had time to be around for the first day of preschool and kindergarten. But when Ygritte had been diagnosed with late stage lung cancer just days after the twins started kindergarten, Jon had been forced to step in and put his career on hold. In some ways, doing so much around the house and for the boys had been good for him; it had helped him keep his mind off the fact that Ygritte was going to die. 

She left them just before the boys started spring break. His family spilled in from Dorne and King’s Landing to give their condolences—it was the first time since the divorce that he’d seen Rhaegar and Elia in the same room together not plotting each other’s deaths—and to help with the children. 

Even though Jon could remember the pain from when his parents divorced, he wished that had been the case for him and Ygritte. That they’d fought too much and she’d sent the papers to his office, and he would get the boys on Christmas and her on Easter. 

She’d been a good mum. And she hadn’t deserved to die just shy of her thirtieth birthday.

“I’ll make french toast tomorrow morning,” Jon promised. 

“And you’ll put faces on them with fruit like mum did?” Duncan asked, eyes shining. Jon nodded, and ruffled his mop of curly red hair. Of the two of them, Duncan looked the most like her. Aegon favored Jon, with his dark curls and lack of freckles. 

“Of course,” Jon assured before checking the time on the clock just above the stove. “Now eat up and go off and get dressed!” The boys shoveled their food into their mouths and ran off, pushing and shoving each other. “And don’t forget to brush your teeth!” They ignored him, of course, and Jon ran a hand over his face before shuffling off to the master bathroom to get himself ready. 

After Ygritte died, Jon had set his original career path aside. Instead, he worked on behalf of Targaryen & Connington, his father’s law firm. Because it was a major firm, it operated in many of the major cities in Westeros, Winter Town being one of them. Jon was the most senior attorney there, and therefore had more flexible hours. 

Precisely at seven-thirty, the boys were dressed in their school uniforms and at the door. Jon himself had put on his favorite suit; a grey Tom Ford ensemble with a white dress shirt underneath and a dull blue striped tie. It was one of his nicer suits that had been a gift from his father (Rhaegar Targaryen dressed almost exclusively in Tom Ford, as did Jon’s older brother Aegon). 

“Got your backpacks?” Jon asked. Both boys nodded and shook them at him. “And your lunches?” Dunk and Egg waved the typical brown paper bags at him. “Alrighty then, to the car!”

Dunk and Egg piled into the backseat and Jon drove them to Winterfell Academy, the nicest of the three schools in Winter Town. When Jon pulled up to the curb, Dunk spilled out and ran to catch up with his friends that he was in youth football with. Egg lingered, and looked up at Jon through the rear-view mirror. 

“What’s the matter, Egg?” Jon turned to look at him directly.

“Mummy always walked me to class on the first day,” he sniffled, clearly trying not to cry. A melancholy smile graced Jon’s face as he unbuckled his seatbelt. He checked and was relieved that he wasn’t about to park in a no parking zone, and got out of the car. Egg watched him, and hopped out when Jon opened the door for him. 

“Then I’ll walk you in too,” Jon stated. Egg took his hand and the two made their way into the building.

All the while, Jon could feel the eyes of the recent divorcées on him. He knew that they would expect him to get back out on the market at some point; after all, what was a young, successful man with two sons to do other than get remarried? But Jon really wasn’t interested; he didn’t want to marry someone who already had children and their own dynamic, and he also didn’t want to marry someone who didn’t have children and risk hurting Dunk and Egg if they got any half-siblings. He was quite content to remain a bachelor.

Dunk and Egg’s first grade classroom was a sunny, airy room on the second floor of the school building. Their little lockers in the hall were decorated with sunflower name signs, and when Jon walked into the classroom, it smelled of lemon.

“Thanks, dad,” Egg whispered before running over to catch up with some of his friends from kindergarten. Jon chuckled and watched them chatter excitedly and play with legos, glad to see that Egg was doing fine now that he was with other children. 

“You must be Duncan and Aegon’s father,” a clear, feminine voice said behind Jon. He jumped a bit. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Jon turned and found himself at a loss for words. Standing behind him in a simple, modest yellow sheath dress with matching heels and sunflower earrings was the most beautiful woman Jon had ever seen in his entire life. She had to be their teacher, but Jon couldn’t for the life of him remember her name from when the boys were assigned to her class. 

“Quite alright,” Jon assured her. “And yes, Dunk and Egg are my sons.”

“I’m Miss Stark,” the woman held out her hand for a shake. “And I am so excited to have Dunk and Egg in my class; their kindergarten teacher has informed me that they are quite bright.”

The surname set off alarms in Jon’s head. He barely recalled the fact that she was a “miss” and not a “mrs,” but he knew the surname Stark. And it wasn’t for a good reason. When his mother, Elia, had been pregnant with him (Jon having been a risky, surprise third child), his father had entered into an affair with a young intern at his firm. Her name had been Lyanna Stark, and the girl had caused major tensions between the Targaryens and the Baratheons, as she had been engaged to marry Steffon Baratheon’s eldest son, Robert. After Jon was born, his mother immediately filed for divorce, and as an extra insult, hired someone from the Baratheon’s firm to represent her. 

“Jon Targaryen,” Jon swallowed, trying not to show any sign that he knew of a member of her family. Still, “Miss Stark” was incredibly perceptive and smiled softly at him before speaking once more.

“I know our families have bad history because my aunt was a stupid girl, but I hold no ill will toward you or anyone else in your family,” she assured him quietly. 

“Thank you, and the same to you,” Jon replied. He tried his best not to stare; even with the fact that she was a Stark, Jon could not deny she was lovely. Her hair was a fine shade of copper, and framed her delicate face in waves. But the feature that struck her most was her eyes; they were like crystal clear pools of water on the Summer Isles. 

Jon had just realized that he was staring too long when the bell rang, signaling the start of the school day. Miss Stark smiled at him.

“See you at three o’clock, Mr. Targaryen,” she stated cheerily before turning her attention to the squirming hoard of first graders watching her impatiently. Jon saw himself out, but not before turning back to get one last look at her. It was then that he noticed her figure; a tiny waist, but fair curves, and legs that seemed to go on for days. 

If Miss Stark was his teacher, Jon would be well and truly fucked.

(He wasn’t so sure he wasn’t with her being his sons’ teacher.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa reflects on her meeting with attractive dad Jon, and learns more about Dunk and Egg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so glad you all like this fic! It probably won’t be a long one, but it was just a cute idea I had floating around.

Sansa Stark had always sworn to herself that she would not be that teacher who flirts with her students’ parents. In general, she never thought she would be attracted to any of their parents in the first place, considering she typically dealt with the mothers and she’d only swung that way once in college with Margaery. 

But then Jon Targaryen had to walk his son to class.

And he was a Targaryen, for crying out loud! The last thing Sansa wanted was for her to become yet another Stark girl who’d tangled with a married man. 

(Still, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be the star of her fantasies when she went home to her flat—and her bullet.)

Generally, Sansa had avoided romantic relationships since Margaery; her dating experience in high school had been tragic, and her freshman year of college had been equally pathetic. Margaery had flirted with her junior year, and the two had more or less experimented, but Sansa had called it quits after her brother Robb let loose that her roommate was more than a roommate at Christmas. By the time her senior year of college rolled around, Sansa had decided that it wasn’t worth it to try dating anyway, since she would be busy her second semester student-teaching and didn’t want to ruin a good relationship by being busy. 

After graduating with degrees in elementary education and English, Sansa first ventured into the world of graduate studies. She had been interested in the Early Modern period all throughout her undergraduate years, and planned on getting her Masters in English. Her first year had been going well, until a professor, Dr. Baelish, had come onto her and she left. 

So at the age of twenty-four, Sansa returned to Winter Town and got hired at Winterfell Academy. She and her siblings had all gone there themselves, and the principal had been her sixth grade teacher once upon a time. 

Sansa was hired on the spot, and she loved her job. She was starting her third year as a first grade teacher, and prided herself on her wonderful students. When her coworkers had informed her about Duncan and Aegon, she had been excited to have them in her class; the two, along with Sam Tarly Jr., would be in her gold-level reading and maths group. 

“Alright class!” she announced to the eager first-graders. “Welcome to your first day of first grade! I am Miss Stark, and I am so excited to be your teacher this year. To start our year, we are all going to sit on the carpet and take turns sharing what we did over the summer.”

Sansa sat amongst them on the bright blue rug, and called on one of the waving hands to share. She heard all about new siblings, new puppies, trips to meet Mickey Mouse, and more. 

“My, it sounds like you all have been very busy!” she exclaimed. Sansa noticed Duncan and Aegon had yet to speak, and looked at them. “Aegon? Duncan? Did you do anything exciting this summer?”

“Grandma and Grandpa took us to Disneyland,” Aegon shared.

“How fun!” Sansa smiled. “Did your dad go with you?”

Duncan shook his head. “No, dad had to work,” he said. “And he had to get rid of mum’s stuff.” Sansa’s face fell slightly and looked between the two; Duncan was eying her cautiously, while Aegon had hung his head and seemed like he could cry. She immediately suspected that the two had recently become children of divorce, but some part of her doubted it. Jon Targaryen hadn’t seemed anything like his father, from the stories she’d heard of Rhaegar. But then again, Aunt Lyanna had always protested that he was the most charming man she’d ever met up until the day she died of breast cancer. 

“I’m sorry your father had to do that,” Sansa stated seriously. “Hopefully he can take you both to Disneyland someday.”

After carpet time, Sansa had crayons and paper out so the children could draw some pictures. Duncan and Aegon sat together, and Aegon seemed intensely focused on his creation while Duncan absentmindedly scribbled with a grey crayon. As she walked around and asked some of the children what they were drawing, she noticed that Duncan was drawing what looked like a husky or perhaps a wolf, while Aegon seemed to be drawing a family. 

“What have you created?” she asked when she reached the two of them.

“I’m drawing a puppy,” Duncan admitted. “I told dad I wanted a puppy, and I’m gonna show him what kind I want.” The drawing reminded Sansa of her brother Robb’s dog, Grey Wind, who was an Alaskan Malamute. 

Sansa chuckled good-naturedly and turned to Aegon. “And what did you draw, Aegon?”

The little boy blushed and swung his legs beneath the table. “A... A family,” he mumbled. “See? It... It’s my dad, and me, and Dunk, and... and you, Miss Stark! And my mum, up here.” He pointed a red crayon to a figure that seemed to have a halo and wings. “She’d like you, Miss Stark. You kinda look like her!” Aegon held the picture up for her to take. “Can you put it on your desk, Miss Stark?”

Sansa tried her best not to blush at what the boy had drawn, taking the drawing from him and nodding. “I would be honored, Aegon,” she told him.

At the end of the day, a familiar figure in a grey suit arrived to pick up Duncan and Aegon. Sansa cursed herself for getting excited at the sight of him, and smoothed the skirt of her dress as he approached. “Mr. Targaryen, may I speak with you?” Her voice sounded shakier than she expected, but he nodded.

“Go play with Sam,” Jon murmured to the twins, who ran off to the playground to find their friend. “What is it you’d like to talk about, Miss Stark?”

“While I heard much of Duncan and Aegon from my coworkers in kindergarten, I’m afraid they didn’t inform me of the... current state at home,” she began cautiously. Jon’s face faltered and she realized that he was probably coping about as well as Aegon. “I am so sorry to hear about their mother. Was it... sudden?”

Jon shook his head. “No, not really,” he sighed as they sat down at her desk. “Lung cancer. She lasted about... seven months? Not much they could do...”

Sansa nodded understandingly and reached to grab his hand. A jolt of electricity shot up her arm when she did, but Sansa pushed it aside. He was a grieving, young father. It was wrong for her to put her own attraction ahead of what he might need. “I lost my mother in a car accident when I was a freshman in college,” she shared tentatively. “Even as a fully grown adult, I was not sure how to cope with it; I can’t imagine—”

“I appreciate your empathy, Miss Stark,” Jon cut her off. His gaze wandered to the crayon drawing on her desk of four stick figures; one with dark hair and a tie, another with long red hair and a yellow dress, and two smaller stick figures, each one resembling one of the taller ones. In the corner was another stick figure with angel wings, a halo, and curly red hair. “Did one of the boys draw that?” He pointed to it.

“Aegon did, yes,” Sansa confirmed. “He... He told me that I looked like his mother. I think he’s struggling more with this than Duncan. And... as much as boys need their father, they need a mother too. I’m not suggesting anything, of course, but—”

“Would you like to get dinner with me?” Jon inquired.

Sansa’s jaw dropped. She thought about pinching herself; there was no way in all the seven hells that the gorgeous man in front of her was asking her on a date. Sansa hadn’t been on a date in years, let alone with someone who looked like Jon Targaryen.

“I... I would love to!” Sansa managed, smiling like an idiot.

They decided to go out that Friday. Sansa gave Jon the address to her little flat, and they agreed on six o’clock for Jon to pick her up. She stood on the steps of the school and watched as Duncan and Aegon got into the backseat of their father’s car, waving to them.

“Sleeping with the enemy, eh, Miss Stark?” Yara Greyjoy, one of the sixth grade teachers, smirked.

“A parent is not the enemy, Yara,” Sansa rolled her eyes. “Besides, I haven’t had a nice date in a while...” She sighed and they walked back to her classroom. “Am I being unprofessional by dating the parent of two of my students?” After gathering her things in her tote and slinging it over her shoulder, Sansa walked with Yara to the parking lot. 

“I won’t tell the boss if you don’t,” Yara teased. “Besides, Jon Targaryen is a nice piece of ass—for a guy, that is. If you didn’t get him, some other single mom at the school would probably snatch him up, and they’re all... well, I can’t see him marrying one of the divorcées.”

Sansa frowned, searching for her keys. “What do you mean by that?”

Yara shrugged and climbed onto her motorcycle. “Do you really think he’d want to manage everything that’s happened to him and his sons and another woman’s baggage?” 

The thought stuck with Sansa even after Yara rode out of the parking lot, and she sat quietly in her car for a moment before turning it on and heading back to her flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked Sansa’s first day with Duncan and Aegon, and Yara as Sansa’s coworker.

**Author's Note:**

> Jon is, how do you say, hot for teacher?  
> *cue the Van Halen song*
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
